


Bless Me, Doctor

by NocturniasDoctor (nocturnias)



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Drama, Friendship, Gen, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23723326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nocturnias/pseuds/NocturniasDoctor
Summary: She didn't want to tell him. But she had to. Spoilers through TWoRS and several references to the 10th Doctor.
Kudos: 4





	Bless Me, Doctor

**Author's Note:**

> BBC owns Doctor Who. This is not-for-profit fanfiction. Title isn't meant to be blasphemous.

There was no day or night aboard the TARDIS. Or perhaps it could be described as always being both day and night. In any event, tired though she was, Amy couldn't sleep. There was a conversation she needed to have with the Doctor. She didn't want to have it, but she knew she must. It was haunting her, keeping her tossing and turning in bed, wrapping her in a blanket of sweat and guilt. Best to get it over with, she decided with a sigh and sinking heart.

She slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Rory. She stood looking down at him for a moment. Her husband, so brave and fierce: two qualities she'd never have known the true depth of if they hadn't traveled with the Doctor. He knew her secret: hadn't judged her for it. But he was Human, with all the depths and limitations they possessed. The Doctor was different. If she was…well… a pond, so to speak, he was an ocean. Probably all the oceans. And just as unpredictable at times. What would he say once he knew?

"Only one way to find out," Amy whispered, and went in search of the Doctor.

She found him in the control room, as she'd suspected she would. He was sitting in one chair, feet propped up in another, nose buried in one of the leather-bound books he was so fond of. He'd taken off his jacket, something she rarely saw him do. As he leaned over for a moment to brush something off his foot, she caught a flash of something bright and metallic down his shirt.

She was puzzled by that, but this wasn't the time for distractions. He probably knew she was there and was politely waiting to see if she was going to say something.

"Haven't you read all those books a hundred times over yet?" she asked, hoping her voice sounded casual and teasing.

He looked up with a grin. "Not quite. But I could add that to my list of things to do."

"That's already a mighty long list," she said.

"Good thing time isn't an issue for me for the most part," he replied. He sat the book down, folded his arms in his lap and gave her an inscrutable gaze. "So what brings you here, Pond? I thought you and Rory were going to bed."

"Yeah, we did. But I… I can't sleep."

"Milk in the kitchen, you know," he said.

"Milk isn't going to help with this one." She moved beside him, arms hugging her chest, her eyes darting away from his and back again. "Doctor, I need to tell you something. Something important."

He paled and swallowed hard. "Oh, goodness… you're pregnant again?"

"No! No, I'm not," she laughed nervously. "But, ah, if I was… would that be a problem?"

"Pond—and I mean this in the nicest possible way—after what happened with your first child, the thought of you having another is enough to scare even me."

"Duly noted. I'll make sure to give you plenty of warning so you have time to make plans," she smirked. Then her smile faded. "But Doctor… really. I've got to talk to you."

He whipped his legs off the other chair, dusted it off with his hands and smiled. "The floor is yours. Or the chair, in this case."

Amy sat down across from him, arms still curled around her. He frowned slightly. "It doesn't seem as though this is going to be a pleasant discussion."

"No," she said. "It's not."

She paused, trying to order her thoughts. He waited patiently: as patiently as he could. When seconds stretched into nearly a minute he reached out and touched one of her arms. "Pond, you're worrying me, and I don't like being worried."

"OK, right," she said, and he removed his arm and replaced it in his lap. She drew a deep breath. "You remember when you didn't die, and all of history happened at once and the pyramids and the Silent and River and…"

"I have a small amount of familiarity with those events, yes. Pond: TALK to me."

"I did something," she told him. "While you and River were on the roof. Something awful."

His eyes darted around his face as he thought. "More awful than the asparagus casserole you made for dinner tonight?"

"Hey, that was my first time making it and I was distracted," she protested.

"Well, that's a relief. It was so biter and dry I nearly—"

"Doctor I killed someone!" she burst out, unable to stand another second of him not knowing.

His mouth opened but nothing came out. He stared at her, unblinking, and he went very still.

"Madame Kovarian," she said, standing up and pacing, shivering despite the warmth of the room. "I let her die. She asked me to save her and I… I thought about everything she'd done to River, to you, to us and the universe… and I just couldn't." She met his gaze. "I put her eye patch back on and left her there to die. And I couldn't go another minute without you knowing the truth."

He remained still, though he seemed a bit paler. Amy sighed. Well, she'd known this could happen.

"I know you hate me now," she whispered in anguish. "And I know you may never want to see us again but please, please know that it was all my doing. River and Rory had no idea what I was going to do." She drew a shaky breath. "I didn't even know until it was there, staring at me, this decision and I made this one and I have to live with it and if you'd just drop us off at home you don't ever have to worry about seeing me again…" she knew she was babbling but couldn't stop…

And then he sighed. But it wasn't a sound of anger or hatred. It was more like… sadness.

"Oh, Amelia Pond," the Doctor said, his tone filled with things she couldn't identify, and she dared to look at him. His expression was heartbreaking and her eyes blurred with tears. "Amelia Pond, Amy Pond… how could you think I hate you?"

Whatever she'd thought he'd say, that wasn't it. She blinked hard, wiped at her eyes with her hand. "You don't?" she asked, incredulous.

He shook his head.

"Why?" she asked, her voice harsh and trembling. "You hate killing, you hate it more than anything. You've never killed anyone in your life, never even wanted to… how can you not hate me?"

He sighed wearily, stood up and moved to her side, gently taking her face in his hands. "Amy… do you remember all the horrible things the Silent have done? Madame Kovarian, the monks… not to mention all the other less-than-pleasant beings we've encountered?"

"Of course I do."

"And I didn't kill them, in spite of it." She nodded. "I don't hate them," he told her. "The things they've done are horrific, and they've made me furious and sad, but I don't hate them. So how could I not hate then, but hate you? How could I forgive so many, of so many things, and not forgive you? If I couldn't forgive you, I'd be no better than them."

Amy swallowed hard, looking at his bright eyes, his gentle smile. She felt happy but guilty. "But… I know I've disappointed you," she said. "Doctor… if I had to do it over… I don't know if I'd save her. What does that make me?"

"Human," he said simply. "Alive."

She reached up and covered his hands with hers. "It's awful. I feel bad, but yet I don't."

"Amy, I can't say it doesn't bother me at all," he said gently. "But I know you. You, Amelia Pond. Amy Pond. Amy Williams. You're not a monster, and you're not a cold-blooded evil killer."

She sniffed. "Oh, you're an expert on those, are you?" she joked feebly.

"Yes," he said softly. "And Amy… you're wrong. I have let people die before. And I have been so angry I wanted to kill."

"What?" She shook her head. "No. Doctor, there's no way."

He dropped their joined hands and pulled her back towards the chairs. "Let me tell you a story, Pond. A story about a daughter."

Amy sat down, still somewhat in shock. "Doctor… no offense, but I think I know most of the stories about River," she said, not unkindly.

"This isn't a story about your daughter," he said, and his eyes looked sharper, haunted. "It's a story about mine."

Amy's eyes widened until she felt like they were going to pop out of her head. "What? You have a daughter?"

"Had a daughter, yes," he said, and the use of the past tense wasn't lost on her. "Her name was Jenny."

Amy swallowed hard. "What was she like?"

He smiled sadly. "Amazing. Like all the rest of the women in this family."

"Tell me your story," she said. And he did.

When he was finished she just sat and stared at him. "So that man…"

"Killed her," he finished. "Just plain and simply killed her."

"What did you do?"

She couldn't read his expression. "I picked up the gun, and I pointed it at him. I was so angry, so very angry… my hearts beat so hard and I was gasping in rage… I wanted to kill him, to take away the life of the man who'd taken my daughter's…"

His voice trailed away for a moment. When he resumed, it was rough with emotions he was trying to control. "For that moment, I had that feeling, Pond. That feeling like what you had."

"But you didn't act on it."

"No. I didn't. But I wanted to. And there have been times, a few times, I've let my anger get the best of me." He looked at her sharply. "So, do you hate me? Am I a monster?"

"No!" she exclaimed. "Of course you're not!"

"How do you know?"

"Because I know you," she said.

"Well, I know you, too," he said. And when he put it that way, it all made sense. She smiled at him, and he returned it.

"Now, don't you think you should get some sleep?" the Doctor asked.

She yawned. "Yeah. I'm so sleepy! How did that happen so fast?"

"You're not holding an enormous piece of baggage now," he said.

"Doctor… thank you. For everything."

He nodded. "They do say confession is good for the soul."

Amy studied him. "So who do you confess to?"

He didn't answer her: he just grinned.

"All right, I'm going," she said, turning to leave. She'd taken just a few steps before she turned back around. "Doctor…"

"Yes?"

"The day we were in Berlin, before Melody became River, you whispered something to her just before you died. What did you tell her?"

The grin got bigger. "Oh, Pond. There are some things that should stay between a man and his wife."

"Fair enough," she said with a smile. "Good night, Doctor."

"Good night."

Once Amy was gone, he slowly reached down his shirt. Pulling the object there out, he held it up to the light, studying it for what felt like the thousandth time. It was a simple silver band he wore like a pendant around his neck, threaded through invisible string, engraved with symbols that only one other person in the universe could read.

"Yes," he murmured as he allowed the ring to slip back down and settle against his skin. "There are definitely some things that should stay between a man and his wife."


End file.
